Adapting
by amberpire
Summary: "Would it be selfish, Young Master, to want to keep you all to myself on the dance floor?" ;Ciel/Sebastian; Post Season Two.


**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Kuroshitsuji._

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><p>"I feel like dancing."<p>

Ciel raises a hand to his mouth and smiles, tossing his head over his shoulder. Sebastian was just pulling back the covers to prepare the Young Master for bed, but now he was frozen, a slender black brow arched. The boy turns on his heel and sways across the room, a hand raising to hook around one of the posts of his bed. This house was new. This town was fresh. American, even.

"It is very late. It would not be wise -"

"Sebastian." Ciel turns his head, oceanic eyes flickering over the butler's form. He had been a demon for over a hundred years now. The formalities were getting so very boring, their life was turning into a repetitive motion. Over and over, and he was so very anxious to sever that monotony. "Take me dancing."

Ciel smirks as he watches his butler smile and bow, a hand folded over the space of chest where his heart would be. "Yes, my Lord. What shall you wear?"

The former Earl throws his lone eye toward the floor length mirror to the right of him. He has finally learned the joy of wearing denim and finds these 'hip-huggers' to be quite ... pleasing. It is always a joy to watch Sebastian struggle with his composure whenever he is wearing them. The top is a soft blue and curled with a crisp collar. He believes it is called a 'polo' or something foolish like that.

"What is popular?"

"No clothing at all, to be frank." Sebastian moves toward the dresser in the room. Ciel watches him with his eye, smiling still.

"Then make it as little as possible. We certainly want to blend in, don't we, Sebastian?"

The demon throws his gaze over his black-clad shoulder. Burning red eyes start at Ciel's toes and end at his eye, lips pressing into a soft grin. "Absolutely."

/

Ciel can feel the bass in his feet almost a block away.

He reaches back blindly. It is instinct, now, after more than a century, to be as close to his protector as possible. His fingers graze over a hot, chiseled arm before he finds the demon's hand. Long, slim fingers circle firmly around his. It is not so much affection as it is reassurance - right? Ciel is not quite sure. The lines of their relationship have blurred quite a bit over the past few decades. Sometimes, Sebastian's hand lingers a bit too long on Ciel's cheek, or Ciel's head ends up in the butler's lap after a long film, or the boy wakes up only to tiptoe into the demon's bed.

Sebastian never seems to mind, has never given any indication that he does. Ciel takes that silence as an okay. Not that he needs it - he is the Master, after all. He does whatever damn well pleases him. And being with his butler at all times happens to give him that satisfaction. The greatest satisfaction, actually.

It is approaching midnight and it is not exactly warm, but the duo are, as always, not at all affected by such weather. The two of them carry around a bonfire within their bones. They do not even get goosebumps.

Ciel has to admit, he is quite impressed with his butler's choice in their outfits that evening - Ciel's dark shirt, or what could be called a shirt, is perforated, but still managed to come off as almost classy, in a way. His pants are tight and there are all kinds of loops and hoops that simply fascinate him. As for Sebastian, he had something strapped to his neck that he said was called a 'choker' - it endlessly amused the former Earl. He wore a black tank-top, Ciel is sure it is called, and there is a whole lot of arm and neck exposed that the boy rarely sees. It is ... nice, he decides, flicking his eyes back to examine his butler. Sebastian's pants are red, almost as deep crimson as his eyes, and boots with silver buckles and zips meet the concrete with soft taps.

"Do I compliment you often, Sebastian?"

The demon's eyes shift to his young Master, eyes closing with a soft chuckle. "You want my honesty at all times, correct, Young Master?"

Ciel's hand tightens around the older demon's. "Well, you did an excellent job. Now -" He turns his eyes to the approaching line to the club, the building pumping and loud. The sidewalk seems to vibrate under their feet. "Get us to the front of the line."

He wonders if the 'us', instead of the usual 'me', is noticed. If it is, Sebastian says nothing, simply nodding as the order is given. He strolls with the boy in sync, past disgruntled Americans. More than one head swivels to stare at them - their grace simply is not natural, and as dumb and ignorant as most humans are, they still have a distinct amount of instinct left in them. Ciel remembers it well. They know when something is off, even if they cannot place what it is. They are instantly on guard. Shoulders are tense. Fight or flight options begin to kick in.

Ciel almost laughs. It is just so terribly funny.

Like a gentleman, his butler bows before the brutish looking bouncer placed in front of the door. His thick arms cross, beady eyes first grazing over Sebastian before shifting to the boy at his side. A bubble of laughter rumbles in his throat. Ciel feels his good mood sizzling away, the light smirk to his lips melting.

"You expect me to believe this pipsqueak is eighteen?"

Ciel opens his mouth to say something snarky, probably involving the bouncer's mother, but he is promptly cut off by Sebastian moving forward so fast, both he and the brute man miss it. His hand is empty now, swinging limply to his side as he watches the man jump back, hitting the closed, throbbing door.

"I will ask you nicely once, stranger, to not refer to the Young Master as anything but that." His lips flatten, head tilting up to peer down the line of his nose at the thick man. His head tilts. "Now, open the door and allow us passage, if you would."

Ciel crosses his arms, meeting the man's eyes with a smug smile spreading across his face. The man's eyes dart between the slim, tall Sebastian to the former Earl behind him, and perhaps it is his instinct to flee that makes him twist around and open the door - whatever the case, his butler is turning around and producing his pale hand to him. The circled star is not so much a problem anymore and does not require being covered when they are out in public. So many humans assume it is some kind of tribal tattoo. They will never understand its significance, its power, its binding abilities.

The boy smiles. His hand lands in Sebastian's, and then he is pulled into a pit of smoke and flickering darkness.

He does not recognize the music, but it is loud and grating. He can feel it beating within his chest, rattling his ribs. It feels strangely ... good, almost arousing, in a sense. Ciel clenches his fingers around Sebastian's hand - the building seems packed to the walls with bodies and already he feels cramped. Strange limbs are rubbing up against him, sweaty and slick, and it smells thick of alcohol. His demonic senses are so sensitive and he is already becoming overwhelmed. He realizes, with a frown, just how sheltered he has been up until now; rarely venturing out unless it was incredibly pressing, not associating himself with anyone, much - simply enjoying his immortality with Sebastian at his side. It was certainly not an unpleasant existence, but he wished he had taken it upon himself to adapt more to his surroundings than he had so far.

"Young Master."

Ciel tilts his head up, a hand dipping into the slope of his back. He is pressed close, single eye blinking as Sebastian lowers. Lips flex over his ear.

"Stay close."

The demon is hot, and the humans moving around him are hot, and the air is thick and strobes of light - blue, red, orange, pink - roll over them. Ciel laughs, the sound easily drowned out by the sheer volume of people and noise.

"This music is brilliant, isn't it?" He feels like he is shouting, though he probably does not have to. "Who is this woman?"

"I believe she is called Lady Gaga. I quite enjoy her." He chuckles, pulling the boy closer. The butler's feet are sliding backwards, effortlessly parting the crowd. "Would it be selfish, Young Master, to want to keep you all to myself on the dance floor?"

Something hot is pooling in his gut. It is not foreign, exactly, but it certainly has not been attended to very often over the past century. Not at all, really - only by his own hand, in the safety of the darkness of his rooms, his beds. The boy smiles against the demon's cheek. "Not at all. I wish for no one else to touch me. Only you."

"Magnificent, my Lord."

The building pumps as the song changes, the body of the crowd pausing only for a few moments. They all seem to catch their breath at once. Ciel looks down, his feet gliding over a glowing floor. The hot hand in his back slips over the holes in his shirt, patches of skin meeting his own. Lips part in a slow gasp of satisfaction, his lone eye fluttering as a new song grinds through the speakers. Another female voice fills the room.

_You're so hypnotizing  
>Could you be the devil?<br>Could you be an angel?_

A devil, indeed.

Ciel finds himself laughing again as the crowd resumes its almost frantic dancing. His hips begin to follow the sound of the music, the flow of the words, the woman's voice narrating the way his body moves. He has not danced much - the last time he did was to the rigid hand-on-waist don't-look-down tedious, robot-like shifting he had done with Elizabeth all of those years ago. This is different. This is loose, this is movement.

_They say, be afraid_  
><em>You're not like the others<em>  
><em>Futuristic lover<em>  
><em>Different DNA...<em>

His eye lowers from the blinding lights to watch the lines of Sebastian move around him. He has never seen the demon move like this before, didn't know that that particular talent resided in him. But why would it not? The man has mastered everything else. Ciel is mesmerized as their hips move together, hot hands roaming over his hips, his thighs, and he is very aware of the slight bubble they have formed, the halo of space. The humans are staying away. Some are marveling; at the impossible man and the delicate boy-child.

_Take me, take me  
>Wanna be a victim<br>Ready for abduction_

Their bodies mesh against each other, the curves and lines meeting up. They rock, move, crush, and it is almost like singing, the way the two vessels converse. A thousand unsaid words transferred through skin. Ciel's blue eye is locked into paralyzing red, two blinding cherries sweet and black at the core.

Lithe, slender hands travel up the expanse of muscled chest. The tanktop hides nothing, really. A white torso flexes beneath him, their gazes never drifting. His fingers splay over the back of the demon's neck and he tugs him closer, the fire almost scalding. He swears he sees steam rising off of them, around them, an explosion waiting to ignite.

_You're from a whole 'nother world_  
><em>A different dimension...<em>

That world had unfolded right in front of him. More than a hundred years ago, Ciel Phantomhive had been just a child, just a pawn, and all in the course of one fiery night he had become a prevailing king. And here was his knight, his sword, swaying in front of him, fingers curling into his aching hips. Ciel grins, pulls the demon agonizingly close. His butler's eyes are smoldering, sprinkled with sparkling pink.

Ciel spins. A blazing chest presses against his back, and through the betraying holes he can feel flares and smoldering ash. His hips push back, nestling in the other man's pelvis, and he swears, _swears_ to whatever entity rules above them, that he feels a moan vibrate his back.

_This is transcendental  
>On another level...<em>

Sebastian's hands flatten over his chest, running down his sternum, his trembling ribs. Ciel gasps, pants, has never in all of his demon years found himself breathless, but here he is, lungs fluctuating crazily under talented hands.

_Boy, you're my lucky star ..._

That circled star, their brand, their scar, their bond, seems to pulse through the dark up at him, catching his eye. His own hand smooths over the star, fingers unconsciously following the lines and curves that he knows so well. Under his eyepatch, his own brand seems to be burning, a pleasurable shock of heat pulsing through his skull, down his spine, along his limbs.

He spins again, chest to chest. Sebastian lowers, long fingers tangling in the back of Ciel's head, filling with teal hair. The boy smiles, hands resting limply on the other man's chest. The next lyric rolls up and the boy mouths them, an order -

_Kiss me._

The demon's lips split in a broad grin. Ciel cannot hear him over the music, but he does not have to - the demon's lips form, _Yes, my Lord_, and then those same lips mold over his own. Fire licks down his skin, erupts under his ribcage and sends his clattering chest into an even more desperate state. A tongue splits his lips, unites with his own, and a oral dance ensues, almost a war. Ciel's nails rain down the exposed flesh before they prick over the fabric of Sebastian's shirt. The older demon's free hand is gliding over one of Ciel's thighs, taut fingers flexing over the curve of his bum and Ciel gasps, body jerking forward, the kiss breaking.

The song ends. The crowd pants in unison and Ciel's bleary senses tell him they are being stared at quite a bit. The young demon smiles. Neither of them are even the slightest bit sweaty, unlike the soaking humans around them. Fingers curl around his chin and steady him and once more he is swallowed into deep, crimson pits.

"Another song, my Lord?"

Sebastian is grinning and Ciel is laughing and as the next song starts, he nods, pressing himself firmly against his butler's chest.

Oh, yes.

/

The sheets are cool against his back.

Sebastian's arms plant on either side of his head, black hair swinging like blades between their faces until the distance is closed. A hot mouth closes over his own again, a taste he has now come to find quite delicious. The boy moans, his fingers fighting against Sebastian's shirt. His fingers just barely graze over a field of hot flesh before the demon sits up, moving away. Ciel pants, moves himself to his elbows and finds himself licking his lips as the shirt is tossed away.

There is so much skin he has not even seen, let alone touched, and so he allows himself to be spoiled, to consume as much as that body as he can.

His eyepatch is plucked away, his vision doubled as it falls to the mattress. White arms cross and grip the hem of his shirt, tearing it off, and the demon's lips travel down the slope of Ciel's neck. A thousand fires ignite, flames lapping up his body, burning him, and it feels simply wonderful. Large hands follow the curve of his sides, slip under his waist only to circle back to the zipper holding his tight pants together. The button releases. The zipper is guided down by black-nailed fingers, and then Ciel is lifting his hips almost urgently, panting, "_Sebastian_."

The demon's eyes flick upward, a smile in those burning orbs, as he slips the pants down two ivory legs. They part, urging him forward, the demon melting against his chest. Lips resume their torturous task of tasting every inch of skin, swallowing the boy up, Ciel's back creating a beautiful arch off of the sheets. A series of moans vibrates out of him, like his body is an instrument, and his butler is plucking the right chords.

The music is gorgeous, really.

Sebastian's pants join Ciel's on the floor, the bed turning into a bit of a battlefield - scratching, biting, rolling, hungry kisses that burn so hot, Ciel swears there is smoke. The heat pooling in his gut is summoned out by a mouth and a tongue he could not handle, hurtling over the edge before he even know it was coming. Ciel sees white, spots of red, only to realize that it is Sebastian's eyes, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. His head lowers and lips glide over the hollow of his ear.

"Roll over."

It is probably the first time Sebastian has ever ordered him to do anything. Ciel smirks, eyes closing.

Adapting. The two of them, though demons, have not lost that ability.

The sheets are warm now, thanks to their fires, their flames and burning coals. His stomach moves against them as hands hold his hips, move him to his knees and then - pain, hot, flashing pain that splits up his spine, makes ungodly noises leave his throat, followed by - _oh God, oh God, Sebastian, Sebastian!_

His butler's composure slips, if just for a few precious moments. Grunts and growls drown out the sounds of skin smacking skin, hips pounding furiously against anothers. Sebastian is loud as that height is reached and once more Ciel finds himself tipping over. Fire explodes from within him and smears over the sheets.

Even Sebastian has to catch his breath. Ciel's head rests on his white chest, an arm crooked over the boy's shoulders. The other is laying on his stomach. Ciel traces the star once more.

_Boy, you're my lucky star ..._

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><p><strong>AN:** _Smutty smut smut. Mhm._

_Also, the song is "ET" by Katy Perry. This is the second time that song has inspired a fic for me._

_Well, I enjoyed writing this. Probably a bit too much. Review, if just for the sexy time :)_


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